Blame it on the wine
by NoOneWouldListen
Summary: Someone in Nottingham Castle had one drink too many which leads to unexpected consequences ;  K  just to be safe.


**Summary:** There is smomething really wrong in the castle of Nottingham and Vaisey investigates. But what he finds out is something he'd never exepect!

Written a loong time ago for the RH community Forum "Unusual Pairings" Ficathon. (Yes I paired Vaisey with someone! And it's even human! :p)

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><p>When Vaisey woke that morning, he soon realised something was wrong. There was indeed quite a few evidence of that.<p>

For one, his head didn't usually feel like it was on the verge of imploding any moment – or exploding, whichever. No, his head, as every other part of his body, knew that he wasn't to be antagonized and behaved themselves. Most of the time, that was. Today was obviously an exception. Ergo, something was wrong.

Trying to get some clues in the recollection of the night's events he found he was incapable of remembering any of it. He tried harder – which was quite the accomplishment considering the throbbing ache his head continued to plague him with. Nope, still nothing after the vision of a glass of Burgundy wine in the Great Hall. Gisborne's leather lurked on his left and noble's velvet on his right. He must have gone drunk then. Still, this hangover flew high above his top ten of worst hangovers.

And there was more.

Like many a greying man, Sheriff Vaisey was a man of many habits. He had his own little rituals to punctuate the passing of every day.

One of those was a morning shout. He wasn't particular as to the receiver of said shout, but a good shout every morning kept his lungs healthy. Another little wont of his was the reading of his 'List of clever insults' – a list he implemented from time to time when inspiration came and re-read with great delight when it didn't.

And one of his carved-in-stone rules was that he never, _never_ slept without his silk nightgown. The current absence of the aforementioned garment was therefore an alarming proof of his previous statement: something was wrong.

Not one to dawdle in bed, he made to get on his feet. And saw that something was really, really, _really_ wrong.

Because on the other side of the bed, as little clothed as him, was **a woman**.

It was sound asleep, what was more. He seemed to recognize it. It had been at his dinner last night, but not as a guest, as far as he could remember. Yes, that was it, it was part of the entertainment. Well not the woman itself really but the noisy, under-sized vermin it professed to have saved from misery. What was its name again? Something short… a bit German-sounding. Like one was about to throw up when saying it's name… Be… Ber… Bertha! There it was. Bertha. Not that it really changed anything. What mattered now was what he should do with it.

His headache was slowly fading and in its place an emergency plan was growing.

First, deal with the consequences.

Springing on his feet – which earned him a sharp reminder of the night's excesses – he grabbed his hitherto missing silk gown and secured it firmly around himself. Now, where was it? He looked out for the 'first aid' set of potions he had had stored in his room. It contained everything a raising noble should need on his way to power: slow or fast poisons, along with their counter-poison, hallucinogenic mushrooms, various sleeping or confusing droughts, and… there it was. Removing a blue-tinted glass bottle from his first aid set, he poured half of its content into one of the two glasses of wine he found lying on the floor, then filled both glasses with wine. Good. Now, get rid of _it_.

"Wake up!" The idiot thing wouldn't budge any muscle not involved in breathing. At least it did not sore.

"I command you to wake up!" No luck on this one either. He started filling his lung for his morning shout when it occurred to him that having the attention of the whole castle wasn't exactly what he was aiming for.

So there was no other option. It had come to hands, literally speaking. He slap his hand on the sleeper's face. Once. Twice. Again. Was it even possible to sleep so profoundly?

He should have woken Gisborne. But then again Gisborne was no good with lepers. Unless you wanted to start a brand new line of dark-haired scowling incompetents. And breeding was precisely what he meant to avert here.

After another round of slaps, the intruder finally stirred.

"Ah, finally! Come on, open you eyes, I won't bite!" He made what was meant to be taken for a reassuring smile. _Well, not strictly speaking, anyway._

Its eyes finally open, Bertha seemed to regain its senses as light reached its retina.

"My lord."

"Yes, that's me." He could hardly address her as 'my lady', after all. "Now sit up and have a drink to celebrate the end of our business together." He handed it the glass filled with his 'first aid' potion, which it took with disbelieving eyes. He could see the disappointed look behind the startled innocent façade. _Parasite. You thought you could trick me, hey? Well, you'll soon find I'm the trickster here. _

Still, it didn't drink, preferring to stare blankly at him as if the answer to life was written in his features. Which it obviously wasn't, otherwise he's be a quite richer and more powerful man.

He raised his own glass to toast and swallowed a mouthful of wine. He was rewarded with a repeat of his action from his vis-à-vis.

Seeing the thing reacted better to imitation than voiced orders he proceeded to empty his cup. So did Bertha.

But, as he feared, there was no way to prevent a woman from talking eventually, and this one held true to its gender: as soon as the glass was emptied, the silence was filled with the sound of the female's voice, laced with a wanton tone that almost made him shiver.

"My lord, I must say I'm surprised you should not wish to… Resume our… activities any time soon? I dare say you seemed to have quite… enjoyed yourself last night…"

Although not surprised in the least by the inquiry, Vaise was on the other hand quite disturbed to discover that, as a matter of fact, the memories that slowly crept their way into his hangover-recovering mind were not thoroughly unpleasant. What was more, he could distinctly remember having _enjoyed_ himself indeed.

But, of course, that was something he wouldn't admit to anyone, least of all the woman in front of him.

He decided it was time to give up pretending.

"Come, come, we both know what this is all about, hum, Bertha is it?"

For a moment he thought she –it – would keep to the previous charade but she – it – appeared to decide against it.

"All right, if you want to do it that way. I believe I'm not the first one in the track. So, I think this is the moment I ask for something in return of the favours I have bestowed you. I want 20 pounds. For the children!" She added quickly when his eyebrows started forming remarkably symmetrical half-circles.

"Very well. And I shall ask a proof that these… children are not submitted to any kind of trade. As I'm sure you know, the trade of Christians is forbidden by the law and sentenced by death."

The innocent air had now completely disappeared, replaced by a calculating look that agreed much more with Vaisey. If nothing, this woman was better than most. She had wits about her and a beautifully deceiving mind, not even mingled with any kind of distasteful sense of morals. Truly, had she not been a women, he might even have liked her.

She didn't give him her usual 'took them out of misery' speech, which he greatly appreciated. He had never had any patience for women's whining and sentimentalism.

"So I guess you and I can come to an understanding, don't you think? _I_ let you free to 'help' this under-sized scum of yours to your heart's content and _you_ get out of here and never return."

She had the good grace to nod. A fair player. Very good. Indeed, quite a pity he… But alas, what was done couldn't be undone. He'd have to live with the disappointment.

"Well, I think it's time I bid you good day, my lord."

"Indeed, I guess it is. Have a safe journey far away from here. If you're ever in the neighbourhood, please remember _not _to stop by. The streets are getting quite dangerous these days." For a flitting moment, Vaisey was almost sorry he couldn't say 'see you soon' or even 'til next time'. Almost.

And because of that, or just because he felt like it, he decided he should give her something anyway. A piece of advice. From one deceiver of fools to another.

"Oh, and if you happened to entertain the idea of taxing me with an illegitimate child, my dear, I should warn you that I really have not a single paternal fibre in my being. So save your breath. And, might I add? You might want to take extra undergarments with you in the following week."

If looks could kill, then he would surely be dead. Ah, Bertha. Did you really think I wouldn't be ready for that? Such a shame she had drunk it all, though. He wondered what a child of theirs would have been like.

He watched her go through the heavy portcullis, away from the Castle, away from Nottingham, away from him. He felt he might even found himself missing her. He shrugged the thought away.

On to business. Money to be made. Now, where was Gisborne? It was great time for his morning shout.

_I hate to look like I feed on nothing but the and reviews (which I do) but see that little blue button down there? ;) _


End file.
